


The One With Emma's Wedding

by aurorstorm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorstorm/pseuds/aurorstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What was that, Henry?” Regina asks, because she must have misheard him through her shock, because there’s no way that--</p>
<p>“She’s gonna marry Neal,” Henry repeats. He isn’t smiling. </p>
<p>[Swan Queen meets Friends: the one where Emma and Regina are in love, where Emma agrees to marry Neal, where Regina has a lot of feelings, and where Emma says 'Regina'.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With Emma's Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anon over on tumblr.
> 
> A million thanks to Coleen (aposse) as always, for her assistance and mutual flailing!

 

“Neal asked Emma to marry him and she said yes,” Henry cries out as he bursts through the front door, and Regina has to take a moment, hand pressed over her heart, to recover from such a frenzied greeting.

 

“What was that, Henry?” she asks, because she must have misheard him through her shock, because there’s no way that--

 

“She’s gonna marry Neal,” Henry repeats. He isn’t smiling.

 

Everything Regina has had to conceal from her son in the past pales in comparison to the effort it takes to hold her composure in that moment. The devastation is immediate, but she won’t let herself scream or cry, because Henry doesn’t _know_ , and why should she be angry, anyway? It’s Emma’s life. If she wants to-- to be with that man for the rest of her life--

 

“I thought you liked Neal,” Regina manages to choke out, looking anywhere but at his eyes, instead trying to find a focus point to keep herself steady; there’s a new freckle on his cheekbone, one she’s never noticed before, and she forces herself to think about how much and how fast he’s growing instead of the matter at hand.

 

Henry sniffs. “Yeah. I mean, he's kinda cool. But Emma doesn't love him.”

 

“Is that so,” Regina says. She takes Henry by the shoulder and guides him into the kitchen, where there’s some dishes in need of washing that can occupy her shaking hands until she sends Henry back to his other home.

 

“Yeah,” Henry continues, and hops up onto the bench. “She isn't happy. But she's doing it anyway, and I don't know why.”

 

“Have you talked to her about this?”

 

“Of course I have. And she lies to me, every time.” His tone is drenched with bitterness, and it gives Regina some comfort that there’s at least one other person who is as vehemently opposed to this match as she is. “I don't even need her stupid superpower to see it,” he mutters, and Regina dries off her hands and walks over to Henry, wrapping him up in a hug.

 

“Everything will work out,” she mumbles into his hair, knotting her fingers into the back of his t-shirt and focussing on the very scent of him. Anything to keep her stable.

 

Henry sighs against her shoulder. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

~

 

Two nights later, Regina has Emma pressed up against her bedroom wall, one hand held over Emma's mouth to keep her quiet and the other knuckle deep between her legs. Regina's hand is cramping, but she keeps a quick, unforgiving pace, and she savours each of Emma's muffled cries, knowing that she may never hear them again if matrimony succeeds in tethering her to Neal's side.

 

Emma pushes Regina's hand off her mouth and presses her lips against Regina's own, kissing her with just enough force and teeth to make it hurt. "I love you," Emma whimpers.

 

"I know," Regina says. She slips her now free hand up Emma's shirt, curls her fingers the way she knows Emma likes it, and pulls back enough to watch her come undone. "I'm sorry."

 

~

 

The impending marriage has sent Storybrooke's residents into some kind of pre-nuptial frenzy. Regina often finds herself wishing for a magical, dramatic disruption to grant some relief from the sentimental atmosphere; not anything as extreme as their recent trip to Neverland, of course, but the idea of summoning a few trolls becomes more and more tempting as the days leading up to the wedding drag on.

 

The one thing keeping Regina sane is that Henry starts taking unscheduled sleepovers at Regina's house during his 'Emma weeks', and though Regina supposes it's only allowed so that he's out of the way whilst the Charmings plan and prepare for the big day, she still feels something like gratitude towards Emma for the extra time.

 

They mostly just keep each other company; Henry introduces Regina to the world of Marvel movies, and Regina teaches her son how to make some of his favourite home-cooked meals. It's their own quiet way of comforting each other, and Regina's house becomes a refuge from all the madness that has once again rocked the tentative stability of Henry's home life.

 

~

 

Regina is curled up on the couch one night, alone with nothing but a glass of red and the miserable company of her thoughts. In every free moment, and a good deal of the occupied ones, she is consumed by Emma and the lack of her presence. Since their last night together, they have exchanged nothing more than fleeting glances when Henry jumps out of the car, yet even the briefest sighting fills Regina with a pain she can’t quite place.

 

She supposes, tonight, that it’s what one calls a _broken heart_. That phrase had always seemed too... insignificant to describe what she’d suffered after losing Daniel, but perhaps it’s appropriate to label what she feels when she thinks of Emma falling asleep next to Neal every night-- if a little cliche.

 

The padding of Henry’s footsteps down the stairs rouses her from her musings, and she carefully places her glass down on the coffee table. "Henry, dear, what is it?"

 

"Couldn't sleep," he murmurs, and flops down next to her on the couch.

 

"Can I get you anything to help?" she tries, but Henry shakes his head. He is restless, though; he tugs at his sleeves and picks at the sofa and studies her face and her glass of wine until _finally_ he opens his mouth and says it: "Why don't you want Emma to get married?"

 

Regina simply stares at him for a moment, "I don't care much what Emma does with her personal life, dear, except for where it involves you."

 

"Don't lie to me, Mom,” Henry admonishes. “I know you've been upset for weeks."

 

Regina takes a deep breath, picks her strategy. "I've explained to you before how my personal experiences have affected my views on marriage--"

 

"No, that's not what it is!” he argues. “You want this even less than I do, and-- and I've seen the way you look at Emma when she's with Neal."

 

Regina just gapes at him, but all words have died somewhere in her throat, and she can’t seem to stop her eyes from filling with tears.

 

"I know you love her," Henry says quietly, and he reaches for her hand.

 

"Henry,” she pleads. “Don't."

 

He crawls across the sofa and settles himself against her side, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. "Even if you lose her to Neal. You won't lose me.”

 

Regina gives up on holding back her tears, then. “Promise me,” she asks.

 

“I promise."

 

~

 

Regina’s cell rings out at some ridiculous hour of the night a number of weeks later, but it doesn’t disturb her; it’s the night before the wedding, and she knows she won’t be getting any sleep anyway. She doesn’t need to check the caller ID before answering, and her chest feels ready to burst with a mixture of hope and dread.

 

“Yes?” she whispers into the phone.

 

There is a moment of silence, and just as Regina expects her to hang up, Emma speaks. _“I can’t do it,”_ she says. _“It’s making me sick.”_

 

This is cruel, and Emma knows that very well. Yet someone can only be so strong for so long, and instead of vengeful, this betrayal has left Regina tired and weak. So she plays along. “Emma...” she starts, but presses her lips closed when she hears Emma let out a strangled sob.

 

_“Please. I don’t know what to do.”_

 

“Then don’t do it,” Regina begs her breathlessly. “Don’t let them break you. Emma, I need you. I love--”

 

The line goes dead. Regina throws her phone against the wall with such force that the screen shatters on impact, and she sinks back down onto the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched in defeat.

 

Her door creaks open slightly, and she hears Henry ask in a sleep-laden voice, “Mom, are you okay?” Though the words are slowed with fatigue, Regina doesn’t miss the worry laced within them.

 

“Yes, dear,” she replies, with her back still turned to him.

 

“Do you want me to stay?”

 

“No, it’s alright,” she says in the steadiest tone she can muster. She’s touched by the offer, but it’s too much, he’s too _good_ , and her heart can’t cope with so much conflicting emotion in one night. As tempting as it is, she needs tonight to hurt, not to be healed. So she tells him, “I’d like to be alone.”

 

“Okay, Mom. Goodnight,” he yawns, and then leaves her alone. She sits a moment longer, and then lies back down on the bed, twisting her hands deep into the sheets just to keep them from shaking.

 

~

 

Henry comes to wake her in the morning, after she’s managed an hour or so of fitful sleep. He chooses a simple black dress from her closet and gently urges her into the bathroom, and when she finally comes downstairs, he’s impeccably dressed and presenting her with a strong cup of coffee.

 

“You look very handsome, young man,” she manages, and straightens his tie.

 

“I’ll stay with you all day,” he tells her as she sips slowly from her mug. “You won’t have to be alone at the wedding, I promise.”

 

“Thank you, darling. I'm glad," she replies, though honestly, she's not even sure she'll make it through the ceremony.

 

~

 

The two of them file slowly into the marquee later that morning, steadfastly ignoring the unfriendly glances so often thrown in Regina's direction. Snow had asked Henry to sit up the front with the family and close friends, but he politely refused, and instead they choose seats around half a dozen rows back. It seems to take hours for everyone to be seated and settled, and infinitely longer until the ceremony finally begins, Neal standing by the altar before Granny Lucas with a sickeningly smug grin plastered on his face.

 

Regina hates the way the crowd then turns and gasps, like they’re in some dreadfully trite Hollywood chick flick, but she turns all the same to catch a glimpse of the bride-- first, she sees Charming, beaming and bursting with pride by his daughter’s side, and then, when she cranes her neck around a guests’ ridiculous hat, finally Emma-- Emma, who looks breathtaking and beautiful and as if she'll drop dead right there on the spot.

 

The sight turns Regina's stomach and claws at her chest, and she wonders if anyone else has even noticed Emma's distress. Besides Henry, of course, who reaches out to hold Regina's hand and squeezes it in what feels like a warning. _Don't do anything,_ she imagines him saying. _Don't make today harder than it has to be. For Emma's sake._

 

So Regina tunes out, lets all the appropriate formalities take place, and after a few minutes, Henry alerts her that the vows are taking place.

 

“Now repeat after me,” Granny instructs. “I, Neal…”

 

“I, Neal,” he dutifully repeats.

 

“Take thee, Emma…”

 

“Take thee, Emma…”

 

“As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

 

Neal smiles, and though it is surely perfectly innocent, Regina can’t help but hate him even more for it. “As my lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

 

“Now Emma, dear, repeat after me,” Granny continues. “I, Emma…”

 

Emma swallows visibly. “I, Emma…”

 

“Take thee, Neal…”

 

“Take thee, Regina--”

 

She freezes, eyes almost comically wide, and slaps a hand over her mouth. The crowd gasps, Snow’s head falls into her hands, and Charming turns around to gape at Regina.

 

“That’s my name,” Regina says out loud, momentarily stunned. “She said my name.”

 

“What the hell, Emma,” Neal growls, loud enough for all to hear, and poor Emma has never looked so mortified, trapped in front of a disappointed crowd of her nearest and dearest, in a princess’ wedding gown, having so terribly flubbed the most important scripted line of her life. It’s too painful to watch, so Regina looks down at Henry, whose gobsmacked expression closely mirrors her own, and somewhere in all the ridiculousness she is struck with the will to laugh.

 

“Do you think I should go up there?” she asks him with an eyebrow raised, and a mischievous smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Probably not a good idea,” he counsels, and they turn their attention back to the red-faced couple before the altar.

 

“I think we’d better start again,” Granny suggests, and once the guests are suitably quieted, she begins, “Now repeat _carefully_ after me. I, Emma...”

 

“I...” Emma gulps audibly. “I... no, I can’t-- I can’t do this-- I’m sorry--”

 

To another round of dismayed groans from the crowd, Emma hitches up her skirt and almost sprints back down the aisle and out of the marquee. The two idiots quickly follow suit, Snow looking pleasingly devastated, and Neal swears violently before kicking over a tacky decorative plant.

 

“Okay, _now_ we should go,” Henry announces, and he grasps her hand firmly in his and leads her away with the rest of his family. Regina begins to panic, then, because what is she supposed to do with an Emma in this state? Regina’s not foolish enough to take Emma’s blunder as some kind of declaration of undying love, and she hastily prepares herself for the very likely idea that Regina is the _last_ person Emma wants to see right now.

 

The closest building to the marquee being the park’s community centre, Regina discovers upon entering from a fuming Snow that Emma has locked herself into the disabled toilet. Snow hammers on the door, but to no avail, as nothing but the occasional muffled sniff is given in answer. At a pointed look from Regina, Charming takes Snow by the elbow and leads her away, and Henry then clears his throat and steps up to the door.

 

"Emma," he says, tentatively. "It's okay if you don't want to talk. But I'm just letting you know that I'm here, and so's Mom. And if you want a hug, I can do that. Or I can leave."

 

There is a painful moment of silence, and Henry looks uncertainly back at Regina. She’s about to call him away when finally, sounds of movement float through the wall. Seconds later, the door is opened a few inches; it’s enough for Henry to slip through, but Regina is unable to catch a glimpse of Emma before it is promptly closed again, and she is left with nothing to do but lean against the wall and wait.

 

~

 

“How is she?” Regina asks once Henry emerges from the cubicle.

 

He shrugs. “How do you think?”

 

“Does she…” Regina bites her lip. “Would she want to see me?”

 

“Not here. She wants to get out of here, go back to the apartment and get out of all her wedding stuff, you know. But without any fuss.” He looks at her expectantly.

 

Regina fishes her keys from her pocket, both car and house, and offers them to him. “She can take my car. You might want to suggest that she goes to our house instead, to avoid interfering family and friends.”

 

“She can wear some of your clothes?” Henry confirms.

 

“Just like old times.” Regina smirks. “I’ll go and restrain your grandparents.”

 

“Thanks, Mom.” He gives her a quick hug, which more than makes up for having to refer to those fools as his actual relatives. “You’ll come by soon?”

 

“As soon as the two of you are safely away, I’ll start walking.”

 

Henry gives her a lopsided grin, and _oh_ \-- it’s _so_ much like Emma’s-- “I do trust you to do that cool teleporting thing, you know,” he says.

 

She knows he does, but that doesn’t mean she trusts herself. “I think I could use the time to clear my head, dear.”

 

With a quick kiss to his forehead, she leaves.

 

~

 

It’s a strange feeling to have Henry usher her quietly into her own house; he leads her to the kitchen and then disappears into another room. Emma sits on a stool by the bench; Regina pauses in the doorway to take in her freshly cleaned features, the way wisps of damp hair have fallen down from her messy bun to frame her face, the mug of cocoa she clutches tightly, with hunched shoulders, but does not drink. She’s wearing Regina’s only sweatshirt, an old grey thing from the late nineties that she just couldn’t bear to throw away, and it makes Regina smile to think of Emma digging so deep into her closet to find something so comforting.

 

Emma looks up to meet her gaze and slowly lowers the mug. “Hi,” she says.

 

“Hi.” Regina moves into the kitchen, but only to the other side of the bench, conscious that Emma must want some space right now. “Are you feeling any better?”

 

“Yeah; a little. But it’s only a matter of time before I have to face everyone. I don’t think I can cope with that.” She tugs the sleeves of the sweater down over her hands and tucks her arms tightly around her chest. Regina wants to run around the bench and hug her, kiss her forehead, tell her everything will be okay, that they’ll be okay together. She stays put, folds her hands in front of her on the granite.

 

“You can stay here as long as you need, Emma--”

 

“No, _please_ , can you stop doing that?” Emma cuts her off, then bites her lip and looks away.

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Being so _nice!_ ” Emma pulls out an arm and wipes her eyes on the sleeve. “Goddamnit, Regina. How can you be so fucking _nice_ to me right now when I’ve been so awful to you?”

 

Regina isn’t sure how to answer. “Would this be easier if I hated you?”

 

“No. But you should.”

 

Regina shrugs. “I disagree.”

 

“You’ve hated people for a lot less, Regina. You loved me, and I messed you around for months, too ashamed to admit to the world that I loved you too, and then I go and get _engaged_ , and then-- god, when I called you last night, that was just--” She’s ranting now, gesticulating wildly and beginning to cry. Regina simply stands and lets her get it out of her system. “And then I go and say your name in front of the whole town, and now everyone knows about us, and they probably think you’re some kind of homewrecker who ruined the fairytale wedding of the century--”

 

“Yes, I’m getting quite a reputation for doing that, aren’t I?” Regina chuckles, and Emma glares at her through her tears.

 

“Don’t, okay? I’m serious.”

 

“Oh, Emma.” She reaches out and holds Emma’s trembling hands, squeezes them gently. “I’m not going to hate you, even if you think you deserve it. I’ve had enough time to be angry about the choices you made. But they were your choices to make, and I couldn’t take that away from you,” she emphasises.

 

Emma looks down. “I never wanted to marry Neal.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I just had so many people telling me that it was the right thing to do--”

 

“And it’s about time that you started making decisions for yourself, not your interfering family and their insufferable friends.” Regina drops one hand, and reaches out to tilt Emma’s chin up. “You owe them nothing.”

 

Emma stares at her for a moment, lower lip wobbling just a little, and then she swiftly stands, hurries round the bench, and kisses Regina soundly, her hands coming to rest gently on Regina’s jaw. She whimpers almost inaudibly as the kiss deepens, and Regina fists her hands into the back of Emma’s - _her_ \- sweater, pulling her in even closer.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispers when she stops to catch her breath. “I love you.”

 

Regina lets her forehead fall against Emma’s. She knows she shouldn’t need to respond, with the way she’s clinging on to Emma and the force with which her heart is beating. But Emma needs to hear it, and she is happy to oblige. “I love you, too.”

 

Emma smiles at her, radiant and utterly lovely, and Regina has never seen her so beautiful or so happy.

 

Regina kisses her again, and some minutes later, when Emma has her sitting up on the benchtop, legs wrapped around Emma’s waist, with Emma’s mouth on her neck and hands inching slowly up her thighs, and she is so blissfully overwhelmed by all this _Emma_ , Emma pauses and pulls back. Regina pouts at her, but Emma just laughs and asks, “You can cross the town line, right?”

 

Regina raises an eyebrow. “I can,” she confirms.

 

“Good. Let’s get out of here.” At Regina’s bemused expression, Emma hastily adds, “Henry, too, of course. I need to get away for a while,” she explains.

 

“Where?”

 

“Anywhere.” She tucks a strand of Regina’s now messy hair behind her cheek and smiles again, soft and sweet. “There’s so much of this world you haven’t seen. So let’s go see it.”

 

Regina smiles back, and for the first time, lets herself imagine a future with the two of them and their son, loving and happy and whole. “Okay,” and says, and laughs breathlessly. “Yes. Okay.”

  
  



End file.
